Told You So
by Sylvia1
Summary: An explosion destroys a building, flinging Batman and Dr. Crane in opposite directions. Surrounded by fire and smoke, police dogs are in the distance and a helicopter hovers above. Both of them are badly injured, but somehow must work together to find a way out of this mess. Post-TDK. Written for LJ Community batfic contest. 1st place in Nolanverse #1 Challenge: Why Do We Fall?
1. Chapter 1

Told You So

Written for the LJ Community batfic_contest.  
Nolanverse Theme #1: Why Do We Fall?

* * *

Rain was pouring down into his eyes, mixing with the blood still seeping from the slash wound on his arm and spreading around him in the alleyway. The wound felt oddly warm even though the rest of his body was cold. Gooseflesh went up and down his arms and a shudder passed through him. He groaned and tried to sit up, but felt a stabbing sensation in his left side, likely from a rib.

The fall wasn't a surprise. The Batman had been holding onto him tight as he swung away from the building, but they hadn't been far enough away to avoid the explosion. Jonathan Crane had simply used too many explosives, a lesson he was lucky to be able to survive though his fellow rogues might mock him later. He and the Batman had been thrown apart, flung to opposite sides of the alleyway like two vehicles bounced apart in a collision.

Normally Crane would be making a break for it, running for his freedom despite the pouring rain and burning rubble, but his side ached each time he tried to regain his footing. The wound in his arm he would be able to handle, but a fractured rib was an entirely different injury. He poked and prodded his chest, his fingers moving nimbly over each of his ribs through the fabric. He had studied medicine for many years, and although he lacked a PhD in the field, many of his fellow rogues still came to him for help. Taking a deep breath, he pressed gingerly on his chest near the pain. It flared up, but he would still be able to breathe without too much trouble. He was glad that he didn't have flail chest at least where so many ribs were broken that he couldn't breathe, otherwise he would likely be tempted to go unconscious. Walking and talking wouldn't be too much trouble, but sitting up was an entirely different obstacle. Rolling to one side or the other seemed to aggravate it, so Crane was forced instead to lie in the rain and stare up into the skies. He pulled off his cloth mask and pushed it aside, his face instantly getting drenched in the rain.

In the distance he could hear the dogs barking and in the dark sky he could make out the flickering light of a helicopter. Why would the Batman make such a foolish mistake, coming here trying to stop him when the entire police force had him listed as their number one enemy? Maybe he really had gone mad as the papers said.

He chuckled, then hissed in pain.

"Crane!" In the distance he could see the distinctive pointy ears moving toward him, no doubt trying to find him in the rubble. If he stayed quiet, the Bat might overlook him, but what would that afford him? If he died, would the Batman blame himself for it? Would he berate himself late at night, dreaming of Crane's corpse in some dirty Gotham alleyway? Even now he could hear the panic in the Batman's gravelly voice, exquisite terror coursing through him. He considered remaining quiet, but then who would continue to torture the Bat afterwards? Could he really allow someone as rash and garish as the Joker be the Batman's worst fear? The clown was really the only alternative, and even he didn't savor the fear as Crane did. He laughed at it, found it funny, and fear was certainly not funny.

With a sigh, Crane raised an arm, "Over here."

The Batman's gaze fell on him, and with incredible speed and stealth the man was suddenly at his side. He was always incredible to watch, moving amidst the fire and debris without making a sound. Crane always felt terror when the Bat approached. It was one of the things he liked best about the cloaked vigilante.

The Batman looked like he'd taken the brunt of the explosion though, wearing his layers of armor that must cost some godly amount, he looked as though he fared well. There was a cut down his cheek and one of his arms looked as though it had been rendered useless, but the Batman didn't seem terribly concerned about it. He looked worried when he saw Crane though. That was a worrying sign: If the Batman was concerned about his injuries, then they must be bad.

"Stay still," the Batman ordered, moving his hands beneath his enemy's shoulders with surprising care considering how roughly he had been treated earlier. The slash in Crane's arm had come from a Batarang, not from the explosion. He recognized the forced coolness in the Bat's voice; it was a technique he had often used with his own patients to calm them before dosing them with a particularly strong batch of toxin. The Bat slid another gloved hand beneath Crane's lower back and lifted him up at an angle. The pain in his chest rose to a fire and Crane cried out despite himself. He barely felt the Batman place him back on the ground.

"The landing fractured a rib," the Bat growled. Even when he was concerned, he sounded completely pissed off. Behind him Crane could see the helicopter hovering, and glimpsed a search light sweeping over the remains of the debris from the two buildings.

"Honestly! If I wanted an obvious answer, I would ask for one," he said as the Batman tried to bandage the wound. It was a futile attempt in this pouring rain, but he had to give the man props for trying. He smiled at him as the rain dripped down his face, "They're coming for you Batman. While you waste time with me, they'll find you. What do you think they'll do then?"

"They'll leave you to die too, Crane." It was a realization that hadn't quite dawned on him until then. "Get on your feet. Now."

"I can't," he whispered through clenched teeth. It was bad enough having to admit that his body was this injured, but saying it to the Bat's face was infuriating.

The Batman stared at him for a moment before leaning down toward him, coming so close that he could see the stubble on his blood smeared chin. Crane flinched ever so slightly. "If you stay here, they won't arrest you. They will let the dogs get hold of your first. Then as they tear you apart, you'll feel every bite and scratch as you bleed out here. How do you think the papers will announce your death tomorrow?" he smirked. "Scarecrow Eaten by Pack of Dogs. I'm sure the Joker would get a kick out of it."

Crane narrowed his eyes, biting his lips with a smile. "You're good. Do you often belittle the injured or is this really your first time?"

"Just stand up." The Bat growled, putting out a gloved hand. Crane could see patches of bloody skin beneath the armor on his arm. Maybe he had been more injured than he was letting on. With a heavy sigh, Crane took hold and allowed the Bat to pull himself up. The world spun as he nearly fell back to the ground, the pain in his chest flaring. He was doubled over and leaning heavily on the Bat's arm, but he was standing at least. Beside him the Bat was smirking at him.

"I'm not doing somersaults, if that is what you want."

"Just keep up."

Moving through the wreckage was a lesson in pain tolerance. There were bursts of fire throughout, and always the dogs sounded as though they were right behind them. "They can smell us. We won't be able to outrun them," he growled as they hobbled behind a flaming pile of desks that had been blown out of the building.

The Batman nodded, "They're frightened of fire." He pulled something out of his belt that reminded Crane of the line they had been swinging on earlier. "Give me your shirt."

Crane's eyes went wide, "What?"

"Your shirt. We'll throw off their scent."

"Throw them your glove or something."

The Bat reached down, and Crane put an arm down over his torso to prevent him from gaining access to his shirt. Instead he reached for his mask which was still clutched in his fingers. "This will do." He flung the mask back into the trail they had been following, then flung his cable around the pile of flaming desks with his one good arm, collapsing them to cover their side passage.

"My mask? You gave them my mask!" Crane was so furious he was shaking. "Do you know how expensive they are? Would it have killed you to lose a glove? Really?"

The Batman ignored him and leaned down to a manhole cover at his feet.

"Oh god, this will not be sanitary."

The Batman winced as he lifted the cover with one arm. Usually Crane doubted it would be so difficult, but with his other arm apparently broken and who knew what other injuries, even that was a difficult feat. The helicopter grew louder as did the barking dogs. Somewhere nearby, one of the burning structures collapsed and a flume of smoke swept toward them. Crane's eyes watered and he and the Bat both choked on the smell. He felt a hand on his shoulder and felt a mask pulled around his mouth. A gas mask, how convenient. Was there anything this man forgot?

The Batman crouched down in front of him, and indicated for him to put his arms around his neck. Was he mad? Sure the sewer entrance was larger than most, but they were both injured. Perhaps he intended they die together, covered in giant rats and then eaten by Gotham's famous sewer alligators. Crane knew he had little choice in the matter. He could follow the Batman's crazy plan, get torn apart by dogs, or get shot by the chopper. He really had picked a terrible night to try this heist.

Crane looped his arms around the Batman's neck and felt a harness of some sort get strapped on behind his back, buckling him into place. His chest was aching with the broken rib, but whatever quick bandaging the Bat had done had apparently at least stabilized it enough for him to be carried. He thought of those obnoxious baby carriers he saw people wear with their children carried around on their backs. At least he wasn't put in front, having to stare at the Bat's angry face for the entire trip. If the Joker could see him now, he'd probably split with laughter or be insanely jealous. Crane hoped the helicopter didn't belong to the local news.

They descended partway down the ladder when the Batman stopped to tie himself to it. He then reached a hand up and dragged the lid over to cover the view of the dark sky above. It landed with a resounding slam.

"Well," Crane sighed. "At least it will be marginally drier down here. As long as we avoid the sewer water."

The Batman winced, clutched his lame arm for a moment before unstrapping himself and climbing downward. He didn't mention the show of weakness, and Crane didn't comment on it. Two bleeding fools traversing around Gotham sewers: what could possibly go wrong?


	2. Chapter 2

Told You So

Written for the LJ Community batfic_contest.  
Nolanverse Theme #1: Why Do We Fall?

* * *

Gotham tunnels have such a rich and diverse history that several tours have been created for them across the city. Crane was most familiar with the Narrows tours of course, the ones specifically made for tourists travelling through the seedy part of Gotham via steamboat. They cost $35 a ticket, now roughly as much as a week's rent in the few residential areas in the district that hadn't been condemned, and shuttled the gawkers and amusement seekers through some of the more tame portions of Gotham's history. Such tours were amusing enough, but only hinted at the more fascinating aspects of Gotham's history, including cannibalism, human sacrifices, betrayal, and of course madness. There was a reason Arkham Asylum had been built in the center of the city after all.

While Crane had worked as the director of Arkham Asylum, he had toured the tunnels frequently, wandering for several hours after the doors had been locked up for the night and most of the staff had gone home. He wasn't sure why he was drawn to them, or what he was looking for, but Jeremiah had only hinted at some of the skeletons the asylum kept down below. Many of the secrets had been buried and forgotten over time, but Crane had for some reason decided he would be able to seek them out. One night he had gotten so turned around that he hadn't made his way out again until daybreak. At first he had attributed the noises and voices to settling earth or creaking metal; the tunnels were so deep beneath the city there was no telling what was above your head sometimes. The longer he'd been down there though, the more he had tried to discern what they were saying. At times he had fancied his own name spoken with the same pronunciation as a nurse upstairs. Needless to say he hadn't returned since that frightful night. Even the Scarecrow had his limits after all. Sometimes you had to know when it was best to just stand aside.

The fact that Gotham sewers were connected to those tunnels was no big secret. Many of the homeless in the city had been using them for years as shortcuts through the more dangerous parts of town, circumventing gang wars and police investigations without incident. Of course that meant dealing with the tunnels themselves and their sometimes confusing pathways. Sometimes your regular passage would cut straight through as you thought it should. Often you'd find yourself far across town. There was no explaining it, and no predicting it either; it was just one of the many understood mysteries of the city. You used the paths at your own risk.

As the Batman had hauled him through the sewers and eventually reached the dirt, bare-walled tunnels, Crane had warned him that it was a big risk to take. The Batman had ignored him. He knew these tunnels like the back of his hand, he said, and had been more than a little amused at Crane's discomfort. Crane merely shook his head. Anyone who claimed they knew these tunnels so well obviously didn't know a damn thing about them. Crane told him so. The Batman glared and continued regardless. Sometimes even the brightest pupil would only learn by making a mistake on their own. The Batman was apparently that sort of student. Crane was not surprised in the least.

Two hours later, they were lost in the myriad tunnels and the Batman had grown increasingly pissed. "We should be past the central hub by now."

"I told you coming down here was a bad idea." Crane grumbled. The pain in his side would vary between a sharp stab and a dull ache with increasing frequency. He could just imagine the rib grinding against some important internal tissue. "See? Don't you wish you had listened to me now?"

The Batman put an arm against the wall, his breathing ragged. He didn't answer. Crane liked to think that meant he was right.

"I could walk you know." Crane added. "It might make it easier on you."

The Batman shook his head, "It'll aggravate the wound. You're lucky to still be conscious. Are you dizzy?"

"Occasionally," he sighed. Being injured was truly spoiling his enjoyment of tormenting the Bat. He wasn't suffering so badly from dizzy spells as he was from overall exhaustion, and although he wasn't a fully licensed medical doctor, he knew that was a bad sign. "At least being strapped to your back is keeping me warmer than I would be."

"I'll try the next ladder we find. Regardless of where it comes out, we're staying up top."

"Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind," Crane frowned, staring at the grotesque sewage that the Batman was wading through. "Where were you planning on going anyway? As far away from the police as possible I imagine."

"Something like that. You need medical attention, and I need to take you somewhere I know you'll get actual treatment." The Batman didn't expand any further.

Crane laughed, "You mean you don't trust doctors? I'm surprised. I would have thought you of all people would put your faith in Gotham's medical system."

"It's not the doctors I have issue with, it's the police force. They're no longer as… trustworthy as they once were."

"Oh please. You're the reason Gordon was forced to allow idiots like Branden to lead his teams. I suppose he's a Commissioner in name only now, don't you agree?"

"That won't be the case much longer." They had reached another ladder, and the Batman climbed his way up it with only a single arm and Crane's full weight still on his back. To Crane it felt like only a matter of seconds before he heard the manhole cover being dragged aside.

"Wow, that was fast," his head felt like he was in one of those carnival rides. "I don't… feel right. When did you take off that gas mask anyway?"

"A while ago. Just keep talking to me, Crane."

"About what? Your poor listening skills or your inability to follow directions?"

It was raining again and the fat drops slid down the back of his neck, sending a chill through him. He looked up to see they were next to a large building. They alleyway they were moving through smelled like a mixture of dog piss and rotting trash. "Where the hell are we? Is this your idea of medical attention? It reeks of hobos. I wouldn't take my most hated enemy here."

"I would."

Crane grew quiet at that, now wondering if this entire trip was just an excuse for the Batman to dole out his own unique method of torture. The bat pushed through a side door which was rather surprising. He was under the impression that doors were not Batman's preferred means of entrance. Much to Crane's horror, it smelled even more disgusting inside than out. "Now Batman," he muttered, his head pounding. "I know you and I have never much liked one another and true, we've come to blows a few times. I might have made a handful of jabs below the belt, but who doesn't these days? The point is, I don't consider you my most hated enemy, and I hope you feel the same. You're more like… a frequent challenge. A worthy opponent. A-"

"Quiet, Crane. Dr. Thompkins, I have a unique patient here for you."

"At least this one's awake. Really, I wish you would consider bringing them to me before they get this bad."

"Where should I put him?"

"Thompkins?" Crane gasped, "Leslie Thompkins? No wonder this place reeks of piss!"

An elderly woman in a boring, traditional lab coat came around to take a look at him. "You know, Dr. Crane, a certain level of gratitude might go a long way." He felt a needle dig into his neck. "I'm the best you've got at this point, and maybe if you are more polite, I'll even use an anesthetic on you." Her smile was eerily calm.

Crane's eyes went wide as darkness swept over him. He could hear the gravelly voice of the Batman in his final moments of consciousness.

"He was right. I never should have taken those tunnels."

END


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